


Silver Shells and Half-Remembered Dreams

by herworship429



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-22
Updated: 2016-11-22
Packaged: 2018-09-01 11:18:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8622556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/herworship429/pseuds/herworship429
Summary: He stepped out into the rain, and tried to be brave like them.





	

He’d never been afraid of the rain before.

It was just water, after all. He’d seen so much worse than a little water.

But then, this rain wasn’t just water. And besides, the last two days had been full of firsts for the sorry likes of Jacob Kowalski. His new best friend was a wizard who could barely look anyone in the eye during a normal conversation, but who would, without a second’s hesitation, throw himself into the line of fire if it meant saving his beasts, his friends, and one troubled kid who probably reminded him a little too much of himself. Jacob hadn’t been that far away back in the workshop, when Queenie had brought up the framed photo in the shed (Jacob hadn’t asked about it; he’d been too busy marveling over the fact that the girl in the picture was moving). He’d heard enough; enough to piece together what he’d already worked out about Newt. The guy had a big brain, and a bigger heart, but he didn’t know what to say to people, didn’t know how to lie, not really, and the only way he knew how to protect himself from other people was by keeping his distance.

And the Goldstein sisters; he still wasn’t sure what to make of either of them. Tina… Newt had explained offhandedly that Aurors were like policemen; she was a tough dame, and a smart one, too, that was for sure. He could easily picture her arresting one of those magical miscreants back in the Blind Pig. Queenie would probably say that Tina was the strong one, but her own gifts, if she had used them to greater effect, would have made her powerful. Dangerous, even. Except she was anything but dangerous. She was beautiful, and kind, and brilliant, and brave, and she’d do anything to help her sister. And maybe even Jacob too.

But the rain would take it all away soon. In a minute, he wouldn’t know what an Occamy was, much less what it was like to hold one; in a minute, he wouldn’t remember what it was like to stand beneath a Thunderbird while it brought on a storm, or the greatest meal he’d ever had in his life, a meal he watched practically make itself in midair; in a minute, he wouldn’t know what it was like to be looked at the way Queenie looked at him, like he (him, of all people) was the greatest thing in the world.

Newt wouldn’t be his friend in fifteen seconds. He wouldn’t know the guy from Adam if he saw him again on the street. And this incredible world he’d stumbled into… it would all be gone. Just like that.

But their government had been prepared to kill Tina and Newt because of this. He couldn’t let them take that risk again. He wouldn’t let Queenie endanger herself further. Not over the sorry likes of Jacob Kowalski.

So he stepped out into the rain, and tried to be brave like them.

***

He smelled perfume.

He was standing in the middle of the street like an idiot while it rained cats and dogs, and all he could think about for a very long moment was the faint, drifting scent of perfume in the air. He knew the scent. He didn’t know where he knew it from, but he was certain he’d smelled it before.

Finally, he smoothed his hair back and tried to remember why he was standing there, with little luck. It was just a blank. All he remembered was the rain.

Well, maybe it wasn’t a total blank. Over the next year, certain things seemed to jolt his memory for just an instant; like the flash of a bright blue coat, right before he suddenly was in possession of a battered old trunk full of silver egg shells. Occamy eggs, the note had called them. He’d gone down to the public library once and tried to ask if the librarian had ever heard of such a thing. The man had given him an odd look and said that the Occamy was a mythical South American serpent.

“According to the legends, their eggs are highly prized,” the librarian chuckled, “They’re supposed to be made of pure silver.”

_Hey! Mr. English Guy! Your egg’s hatching!_

The note notwithstanding, he decided to take the act of charity at face value. The bank had been confused, but when they confirmed that he had a suitcase full of solid silver, they were happy to give him his loan. And business was booming, thanks to his array of whimsical baked goods. They made everyone point, laugh, ask what they were, or where he got his ideas, but the truth was he didn’t know. They just appeared in his head, like shadows of a half-remembered dream. They had names, though he never used them in the shop; the little fat ones with the flat-billed faces, he called those Nifflers. And the ones that looked like rhinoceroses with bulging horns, those were Erumpents. He’d even started making little coiled, feathered serpents. Occamies, in honor of those silver shells that had gotten him here in the first place.

He didn’t know how he was so sure what Occamies looked like.

He got a few visitors from Europe, and occasionally, one of them would walk in, looking bored, only to catch sight of one of his shaped pastries and smile suddenly. It was a secret sort of smile, the kind that made him think these things reminded them of a childhood memory. Sometimes, they’d strike up a hopeful conversation, only to seem disappointed when he didn’t recognize something they’d talked about. Then they would hurry out of the shop, perplexed.

Once, a tall, rail-thin man with a long reddish beard, wearing a striped purple suit and glasses shaped like half-moons, had ducked into the shop out of a thunderous rain storm. He had taken one look at Jacob’s display of Nifflers and let out a surprised chuckle.

“Well then,” the man had said, tipping down his glasses so as to get a better look at Jacob, “What have we here?”

Jacob didn’t know why, but he had felt like the man was reading his mind. He’d smiled and chuckled again, exchanging his money for one of the pastries. Something about the man reminded Jacob of something he couldn’t quite place; no, someone. The accent, the brightly-colored suit, the twinkle of mischief in his brilliantly blue eyes…

_Say, why did you keep me around, Newt?_

_Because I like you. You’re my friend, and I’ll never forget how you helped me._

The man had left after shaking Jacob’s hand, smiling and humming to himself as he nibbled on the end of an Erumpent’s horn.

Then one day she walked in. Her coat and hat were such bright, shocking shades of pink, against reddish-blonde curls, and that smile, bright blue eyes seemingly fixed on him…

_There’s loads like me out there._

_No. No, there’s only one like you._

And then it hit him. That perfume he had smelled in the rain the day that he couldn’t quite remember. It was the same. It was her. He knew her, he knew he did. She smiled knowingly.

“Hey, you wouldn’t be Mister Kowalski, would you?” she greeted him, glancing from beneath her eyelashes. She was either being coy or shy, he couldn’t tell, “I heard you was hiring.”

“Yeah,” he managed stupidly, “Yes. Yes, I am. You looking for work?”

“Looking for better than what I got,” her smile got brighter and she winked at him conspiratorially, “Between you and me, I make a mean strudel.”

**Author's Note:**

> I think I really just want Dumbledore to wander into Jacob's shop one day, and that's mostly what this was an excuse to write. Hope it was enjoyed.


End file.
